


Ungulates at Work

by arbyhimself



Category: Them's Fightin' Herds (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Cows, F/M, Fear, Fights, Floof, Friendship, Gen, Propaganda, Romance, Rugby, Sheep, Short, Unicorns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24351277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arbyhimself/pseuds/arbyhimself
Summary: Seven heroes, seven stories.A collection of short episodes surrounding each of the chosen key keepers, their adventures and mishaps. They all share a quest to rescue Fœnum from those that want to see it reduced to ruins. Results however, may vary.
Kudos: 15





	1. Into the Mine

Streaks of gold and scarlet shoot across the sky at dawn as the first signs of a great copper sun climb over the horizon. They are quick to claim the star-speckled firmament for themselves, and to light up the land that lays beneath. Wide and vast almost like the sky itself, large parts of the Prairie still rest in the night's passing darkness. It makes the grass and the brown muddy soil appear in a dim shade of navy blue.

A firm breeze wanders across the infinite plains. It greets the hills and valleys with the first signs of morning, and the warm air of the oncoming day makes itself known. The wind flows neatly across the grass, as its tall stems shift and rustle against each other and everything they touch. Some are now dancing around and tickling the pink snout of one of the Prairie's young inhabitants. They have the small, napping body momentarily gasp for air, soon to catapult it out of its nostrils at dizzying speeds.

“Ah...ah...a-CHOO!”

With a huff and a puff little Arizona jolts awake. She blinks at the brightening sky with tired eyes, and rolls onto her back. Not a second later the young calf is well on her hooves, ready to greet the new day. Her muzzle splits into a grin as she turns towards the rising sun.

All around her, the prairie is coming to life. Fleas and crickets begin to dance around the grass while the birds start to sing. The first of many enthusiastic moos of the day are sounding around her, as the cattlefolk calmly shuffle to their feet. Arizona opens her mouth wide for a long and pleasant yawn. She stops and cranes her neck. Something caught her attention.

A slight rumbling shakes the ground, so minuscule one barely even notices. Her parents Texas and Minnesota are close by and still dozing the end of the night away, not even bothering with the minor commotion.

As Arizona turns around, she spots the source of this vibration. Two other calves are galloping towards her, and one of them looks all too excited for her own good. As for the other one, Arizona isn't too sure how to read his expression. Tired may be a start.

“Ari, hey Ari! Guess what?” the leader of the pair exclaims. They both come sliding to a stop right in front of her.

“Howdy Carolina,” the calf wearily greets her friend. “Guess, huh? Well, I'm guessing ya didn't jest wake me up fer nothin', how's that?”

“Ya guessed jest about right. Pretty sure you were already awake though,” Carolina teases her. “Anyhoo, this here's my cousin from all the way down south. The one I told ya about, remember?”

Arizona's gaze shifts to the calf timidly standing next to her friend. Coated in all brown without spots of white in between, he anxiously looks up at her. She remembers her earlier conversation with Carolina about his tribe speaking a different language. Can he even understand them, she wonders? Only one way to find out.

“Yer staying with her folks for the summer, ain't ya? Name's Arizona. And, uh...whut was yours again?”

“Zacatecas, that's him,” Carolina replies with a smug grin. “Neat, huh?”

“My full name is _Estado Libre y Soberano de Zacatecas_ ,” he quietly chimes in. Seeing the bemused expressions of his two companions he quickly adds, “actually, you can just call me Zack.”

“I, uh...I like that a lot better,” Arizona remarks, some relief swinging in her voice. “Gee, here I was wonderin' whether you'd even talk our talk and all, seeing how we always seem ta have some trouble communicating with y'all. But you seem to understand us jest fine.”

“Thank you,” Zack says with a hint of a smile. “I am only learning your language now. Maybe I will make some mistakes sometimes.”

“I told him don't worry about it none,” Carolina tells Arizona. “He's just modest.”

“Right, well.” Arizona opens her mouth widely for another yawn coming up. When it passes, she feels more awake and invigorated, ready for a day of adventuring. “Whew-wee. Well, then. I'm hoping you've got somethin' planned to welcome our friend here to the Prairie all proper like? Wouldn't want ya ta think we're all a bunch of good-fer-nothing bores, huh Zack?”

“I had somehtin' in mind,” Carolina says. “Remember that one little thing we talked about last week? That forbidden thing?”

Arizona's eyes widen in shock, and she whirls around to her parents. They're both still asleep, and seemingly haven't heard a word either of them said. She allows herself a quick breather, only to turn to her friend with some annoyance.

“Don't talk about that here!” she scolds her. “Tell ya what, why don't we go fer a bit of a walk...away from all them eyes n' ears and such?”

The other two see no reason to object. Before long, all three off them are galloping off across the steppes, over a hill and towards a nearby riverbed. They're well out of the herd's sight with easily half a mile between them before they come to a stop on one of the banks.

“I do not understand,” Zack says, being the first to speak up after they catch their breath. “You want to go and do something? Why can we only talk about it here?”

Carolina grins at him.

“Well, look at it like this. What's the one thing yer folks always told ya not ta do, huh? Whut's the one rule ya can't ever break, can ya tell me that?”

“Um...” The young bull's eyes sink to the ground, as he's in deep concentration. He's evidently trying to conjure up some thought, and the two calves look at him with ever growing excitement. “Don't talk about Fight Club, maybe? Is that it?”

“It's not, but nice try,” Carolina remarks.

“What's a Fight Club, anyhoo?” Arizona wonders.

“I cannot tell you,” Zack replies. “It is against the rules.”

“Ya don't say.”

“I am.”

The three shoot each other a round of confused looks. Carolina is the first to break the deadlock this time.

“The one thing our folks told us never to do,” she explains. “Is to go and explore an abandoned shaft leadin' to the ol' salt mines. It's in the hills over yonder. You want to know why we can't go there?”

Zack's eyes grow wider, as Carolina slowly creeps towards him with a widening smirk.

“Why?”

“Because nobody's ever gone in...”

“Quit it, Carrie. Yer scarin' him!”

“...and come back out the other side!”

She stops inches short of her cousin's face, shooting him a challenging look. Zack's eyes dart back and forth between Arizona and her, before he shuffles back a bit and composes himself.

“She…is not so scary. I know her a bit now. Crazy, yes she is. But not scary when you get to know her.”

Carolina's face bursts into a scowl, as Arizona stares at them both for a moment, then doubles over with bellowing laughter.

“He picked up one thing that's spot on, alright.”

“Whutever,” Carolina retorts with a scoff. “Now, don't you go distractin' me no more, y'hear? Anyway, that there mineshaft? That's the one thing we ain't allow ta do. You followin' so far, Zack?”

“I believe I am.”

“Good. Then guess what's the one thing we're about ta do now.”

“I do not like what it is you tell me.”

“Ya really think this is a good idea, with whut his first day here with us?” Arizona remarks.

“Ain't gonna do him no good seein' you're nothing but chicken, neither.”

“Hey! I ain't no chicken!” Arizona yells into her friend's face, as Carolina sticks her tongue out at her. “Oh, that's how ya want to do it, huh? Well, it's on I tell ya. C'mon Zack, we're gonna show that ol' mine who's boss.”

Just like that, the two of them make off across the hills, the somewhat disheartened young bull following in their footsteps. Part of him feels a bit homesick already.

In the midst of a rocky slope, some distance away from where the herd is camped, a wooden frame surrounds a narrow opening that seems to continue on deep into the hillside. It's impossible to see just how far the tunnel extends underground from outside. After a short distance, the inside turns to nothing but pitch blackness.

The three young ones stand near the entrance, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and curiosity. One thing is for certain. Both Arizona and Carolina have come this far, they're not willing to let up now. The third member of their group appears less certain, but he tries his best not to put his worries on display.

“This is what you want to show me then?” he wonders. “And do you know, what is inside?”

“Nobody knows,” Carolina tells him. “Nobody who's alive, anyway.”

“That's right. And we'll be the first and only ones to find out,” Arizona adds. “Rest of them cattlefolk ain't never gonna follow us in there.”

“Is it because they're chickens?” The young bull begins to pick up on their local vocabulary.

“Darn right it's because they're chickens,” Carolina tells him with a grin. “Got that lasso of yours at the ready, Ari? Then leads git down ta business.”

One after the other, they step out of the sun and into the tunnel's cool shade. Their eyes take a moment to adjust, but the shapes and outlines of the mine come to them eventually. Arizona's initial excitement is quickly dampened however when she sees there's nothing but stone and rock all around them.

“Whut now, that's all?” she wonders. “I was hopin' fer some treasure or somethin.”

“Well, clearly ya gotta go further in fer that sorta stuff,” Carolina scolds her. “We'll find ourselves some goodies, don'tcha fret. Just don't git lost, y'hear? Else y'all might jest end up like Georgia.”

Zack looks at her with concern creeping into his eyes.

“Why? What happened to Georgia?”

“Trust me, ya do _not_ wanna know.”

Deeper and deeper they venture into the cold tunnel. The light around them keeps fading, until the cave's entrance is nothing but a tiny speck in the distance behind their backs. They keep narrowing their eyes in an effort to now make out even the faintest of shapes around them, trying their best not to lose their orientation.

Suddenly, a low rumble erupts from somewhere nearby. The trio freeze in their tracks.

“Ya ain't had breakfast yet, Ari?”

“That warn't me. 'sides, I'm jest fine.”

“Then whut?”

As they all fall silent, another sound emerges from somewhere nearby. It sounds like hoofsteps but softer, more delicate. The calves are tossing their heads around trying to make out the source of the strange sounds.

“Who's that sniffin' my coat now?” Carolina asks, her voice beginning to shake. Both her companions are quick to answer.

“I did not do this.”

“Ain't me neither. What do you reckon this is?”

“I reckon we ain't alone, folks,” Carolina mumbles. Just as she says it, a pair of fiery red eyes lights up in front of them. They're only inches away and a stream of hot, foul breath blows in their faces. Arizona shudders as it reaches her.

“Might I go 'head 'n propose a tactical retreat?”

“Ya may,” Carolina replies, and her voice shrinks to a whisper as she does. With a sudden shriek she adds, “RUN FOR YER LIVES!”

Screaming and screeching, the trio turns their back on the glowing eyes and retreats the way they came, back towards the light. None of them see the creature flinch away at their heated reaction, and neither do they spot it beginning to creep after them a moment later.

They slow down towards the exit and come to a halt right before reaching it. When they turn and stare back into the tunnel, the outline of their near surroundings appears much clearer than it did before. Their eyes can easily spy into the darkness now.

What they see next makes their blood freeze over. The creature pursuing them suddenly draws near again. And now they can see it in full. Black with pulsating amaranth eyes, disheveled long fur and a protruding snout, the predator closes in on them.

It opens his mouth to lick its lips, flashing a set of sharp, white teeth. The three calves are glued to the ground, their hearts up in their throats. The wild animal stops just short of them, and opens its mouth to speak.

“Did you think you could escape me?” It's voice is barely above a hoarse whisper. “I have you right where I want you. There is no running. There is no hiding. You're staying with me now.”

“Oh yeah? Fer what?” Arizona yells at it, and stomps on the ground. Her words echo along the cave's bleak walls. “You ain't...you ain't scaring me ya varmint. Now go on, git!”

“If you think I'll just let you walk out of here, you've another thing coming!” the creature hisses back. “So long I've been so, so very hungry. And here you are, right before me...” It shows its teeth again, much to the horror of the three calves. “But that is not what I am here for. I am here to deliver a message. A warning.”

“What is it?” Arizona yells at it again, as if to scream her own fear out of herself. She stomps on the ground a second time and this time there are consequences.

The dark creature opens its mouth to speak once more. But before any words come out, a large boulder breaks off from the tunnel's ceiling and plunges down onto it. The rock catches the predator square in the head, slams it down onto the floor and smashes it to pieces. The remainder of its body remains standing and twitching for a moment. Then it slides and falls motionlessly to the ground.

“Reckon that's what he wanted to warn us about?” Carolina wonders after their shock slowly passes. Her voice is still shaking, but she sounds a bit more reassured than earlier.

“I don't believe it,” Zack tells her. “The stone fell down because Arizona stepped on the ground. This one could not know that. But do you know what this was? I never saw a creature like this.”

“We ain't either,” Arizona replies. “Think there's any more of 'em?”

“I sure don't feel too keen on findin' out,” Carolina says. “How 'bout y'all?”

“Right there with ya, sis.”

“I would like to go somewhere else now.”

They seem to have reached an agreement between each other. The three exchange a round of nods before they turn their backs on the tunnel and step out into the sunlight. Arizona never knew how good the sun's warmth sinking in through her coat could feel until now.

They keep moving until they're a good distance away from the dark entrance, never once losing sight of it. When they come to a halt under a dead tree further away, they all turn their heads to warily inspect the spooky opening in the rock one last time.

“One thing,” Carolina remarks. “We don't tell anyone about this. Zack, you remember not talking about that Club of yourn, whutever that is? Well, you won't talk 'bout this neither. Y'hear?”

“My lips are sealed,” Zack assures them. “Is that how you say it?”

“Well, shucks,” Carolina muses. “Lucky us, there's more'n one way ta have some fun 'round here, ain't that so? I don't know about you, but I sure could go fer a swim below the ol' waterfall. How 'bout it?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Arizona replies. “I'm in.”

“It does sound refreshing,” Zack tells them both. A grin creeps onto Arizona's muzzle.

“It sure does. Speaking of waterfalls, Zack? Ya don't happen to know what a 'Leap of Faith' is, do ya?”

Traces of worry immediately return to the young bull's face.

“Why do I not like this idea already?”


	2. A Floof Made in Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six heroes, six stories.
> 
> A collection of short episodes surrounding each of the chosen key keepers, their adventures and mishaps. They all share a quest to rescue Fœnum from those that want to see it all in ruins. Results however, may vary.

Caramel latte with milk and no extra sugar, and just a hint of banana on the side is just how this so very tall and handsome reindeer buck likes his coffee. The description fits him as well as his name being Blitzen, which it is.

This coffee or rather this particular brand of coffee established itself as his favorite thing in the world when he was much younger. It remained on that top spot for most of his life before being suddenly and unexpectedly relegated to runner-up only about a week ago. His new personal favorite is of a very different nature.

Nine in the morning, and she arrives on time like clockwork. Slender and graceful as ever, the reindeer doe with the sparkly turquoise antlers prances through the museum's main door and heads right into the building's own library. All eyes in the room turn to her including his own, and she obviously relishes the spotlight. Blitz has to do his best not to let a lovesick sigh escape his throat.

Her name is Velvet. And she's the only remedy for his lonesome heart.

Velvet and him met once before at the competition to select Reine's own champion for seeking out the Prophet's Key that would possibly save the world. In the midst of it all this soft and delicate flower of a doe would end up tossing Blitz around, freezing him half to death, and repeatedly slamming his head on hard pavement until he lost all traces of consciousness. It was the greatest thing that ever happened to him.

Blitz finds himself having trouble falling asleep each night. He always ends up thinking and fantasizing about this wonderful doe for hours. And then he's woken up early each morning when his roommate Donner leaves for that kebab place he works at. As a result, Blitz spends nearly every moment of his sleep-deprived existence trying to conjure up a way to approach the love of his life. It's never easy, but being half asleep most of the day makes coming up with ideas particularly hard for him.

“Vell, hello zere handsome! Didn't think you were going to be here.”

His head shoots up and brings him out of his stupor.

“Huh, what?”

Then he sees her and freezes. She's standing right in front of his desk, less than two feet away. And she's scrutinizing him with her bemused eyes. Blitz opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. They're lost somewhere on the way there from his brain, always assuming they ever existed in the first place.

“Are you alright?” she wonders. “You look awful.”

“I'm...good,” he replies, stifling a yawn. “Just got here, to the museum, uh, library. Heh. And now I'm reading...” He glances at the text before him. Has it really been upside down this entire time? “...reading a book. Yes! Literature. I just love reading. Uh, yeah. How...are you?”

Velvet glances around, growing slightly disgruntled.

“To tell you ze trooz, I am vorking on zees very big stone upstairs zat veel hold a clue vere I can find ze Prophet's Key. My studying it from up close didn't yield too many results, so I vas hoping to find some more hints here.”

“That makes sense,” he remarks, as the gears in his head slowly begin to turn for the first time that day. “What...what did you find out so far? About the stone I mean?”

“Eet eez very old,” she explains. “Hours of intricate examinations have led me to zees conclusion.”

Again, Blitz has to suppress a sigh, as tiny pink hearts practically dance around his eyes. She's so smart and intelligent on top of being so elegant and, well, perfect. Because he knows she's right, the stone is very old! Everybody says so, even old people. And they should know a thing or two about things being old.

“Ah, vell. I must be off,” she says with a wink. “Lots of saving ze world to do, no?”

“You...w-wait!” he exclaims as she leaves. Velvet turns to face him again. One brow slightly raised, she shoots him a curious, challenging look.

“Yes, you vant to say something more?”

“I was wondering, well, you're probably busy and all, but...when you're done, think maybe we could go get some, I dunno, coffee or whatever?”

“Coffee?” she wonders. “My darling, you've got coffee standing right zere next to you.”

Her hoof points to a steaming paper cup close to him on the desk. Blitz looks at it, perplexed. How did it get there? Why is his name scribbled on it with marker, and why is it written with a P? He certainly doesn't remember getting it.

“But I veel take you up on your offer,” Velvet adds, interrupting his train of thought. “As soon as I'm finished veez my studies, of course.”

Just like that she struts off and leaves him alone with his book. Blitz took the liberty of turning it around in the meantime. The content still doesn't come to him any easier than it did before. Why would he even pick out a title like _The Fascinating Anthropology of Lime-Coated Unicorns_? And how did he even get here? Nothing about this day makes any sense so far.

Especially his run-in with Velvet just now. Just as he thinks about it, Blitz legs seem to go out under him. She called him her darling! His heart is beating much faster now, and he still hasn't touched his coffee. If only he could find something to say to her, something that would make her understand just how much she means to him. How much she always has meant to him…ever since last Thursday, anyway. He can't seem to think of anything else…

“Alright, I am done for ze day. Shall ve go?”

“Uh?” he mutters. “Wait, how long were you in there?”

“Almost five hours, darling,” she says and his heart skips yet another beat. He should probably go see a doctor about that, it's been happening all too often lately. “I must say, you seem to be quite intrigued in zees subject of yours. All zees time you have studied ze same book, and ze same page, too?”

“It's a very interesting book.”

“I see. And why are you schprawled out on ze floor like zat?”

He timidly glances up at her.

“I...like it down here. The posture helps me think.”

“Oh, heavens! Your coffee eez all cold and soggy now!” she exclaims. “Zees simply veel not do. Ve must seek out a replacement at once! Come veez me, and ve shall get ourselves ze very best refreshments in all of Reine City!”

Anything for you, he almost exclaims. Instead, Blitz quietly shuffles to his feet and follows the answer to all his prayers out of the study hall. They make it across the building and all the way to the foyer, where she suddenly pauses and thinks.

“Everything alright?” he asks, wondering if the concern in his voice might just have been a tad too obvious.

“You must excuse me for just a minute,” she apologizes. “I zought of a single detail in ze stone I have to take another look at. Eet might be important for my big break. And eet veel only take a minute, vell, maybe two. I'm sure you understand? Ze whole world depends on me getting zees right, after all. You!” she adds, commandeering one of her adoring sprites. “Get me somezeeng to drink! And also for zees handsome buck! Go on, no time to lose!”

The sprites make off through the main entrance, as she dances back up the stairs and disappears into one of the rooms beyond. Blitz can't help but follow her with his eyes, unable to grip any coherent thought all the while.

His sense of time is clearly skewed by exhaustion. He feels like she's only been gone for one second, when her sprites come rushing back in through the door, carrying two fresh cups of steaming coffee. They set one down next to him, then follow their mistress up the stairs. Blitz wearily leans down to the dark beverage and takes a sip.

The taste surprises him. He didn't think she'd be the pumpkin spice kind of girl. As he lifts his head back up, his gaze briefly falls onto the writing on the side of the cup.

“My name isn't Pretzel! What the…”

He doesn't have time to speak his mind, for at the same time the group of sprites reappear on the flight of stairs. They hurry past him with an empty cup and out the door. Before he has time to yell any more complains, they're already well out of hearing range.

Grudging and frustrated, Blitz reaches forward to finish the rest of his coffee. With a few large sips he empties the cup. He can't help but wonder what's taking Velvet so long. Not that he would ever dare rush her.

The sprites come speeding past him for a third time. They're carrying another cup of coffee with them, and a faint scent of cinnamon reaches his nostrils just as they pass. Up the stairs they go and away. Again, Blitz gets no time at all to properly file his complaint.

His anger is all but swept away however, when his dearest Velvet appears on the stairs again, rushing downward. He wants to approach her but she doesn't seem to have eyes for him at all this time. Angered and annoyed, she stares straight ahead and makes for the exit. Following her is a smaller, bulky creature of brown and white. Unkempt brown fetlocks obscure part of her cloven hooves, and a pair of short, thick horns protrude from her forehead just above the eyes.

Blitz watches them go by in utter confusion for a moment. He wants to ask what is going on, but the coffee makes itself known in his bladder already. Legs crossed, he quickly dashes over to the reception.

“H-hey, sorry,” he mutters between clenched teeth, “you guys do have a visitor's bathroom around here somewhere, don't you?”

“Down the hall, second door to your right,” the bored receptionist buck replies, hardly even looking up from his crossword puzzle. He doesn't need to either. Blitz makes off to the near hallway faster than the eye can see.

He practically flies through the bathroom door and right into one of the stalls. Only when he's safely locked it from inside and brings himself down on the seat does Blitz get some relief, and a sigh escapes his lips. That's when all hell breaks loose around him.

A faint yee-haw sounds from somewhere seemingly far away. It's followed by the booming noise of a fierce explosion. The ground and everything in the bathroom begins to violently shake for several seconds, bringing it almost to the point of collapse. When all calms down again, a voice from the nearest cubicle speaks up.

“Holy cow, man! What the hell are you doing in there?”

“That wasn't me,” Blitz retorts. “Besides, mind your own business.”

“Just saying.”

He finishes his deed, washes his hooves and quickly returns to the foyer to find out what the ruckus was all about. To his horror, the museum's front door and a considerable portion of the wall around it has been torn loose or is missing entirely. The gaping hole in the building's facade lets the cold air from outside float in without any obstacles, and offers a clear view of the carnage outside.

The entire plaza has been torn to pieces. The marble stairs leading down from the museum are mostly cracked or otherwise damaged, and the pavement beyond them is all but gone. A huge crater gapes in the middle of Reine City, surrounded by bent street lamps and scores of buildings with newly missing window panes.

In the middle of it all cowers a bruised and beaten Velvet. She is struggling to get back up on her legs only now, and her eyes convey the fiery emotions of anger and resentment. Her horned companion from earlier is nowhere to be seen.

“That little, insolent...” she mutters as he rushes up to her, panic flaring up in his chest. “She dare? She dare ruffle my floof? My perfectly trimmed and tended to, elegant, prize-winning…” Velvets nostrils flare up and tiny shards of ice form in the air all around her. Seeing them, Blitz slithers and comes to a halt just inches away.

“I veel show her!” the doe curses. “Zees is not over, oh no! Ze little cow veel pay for her disrespect! As I stand here among you...” She raises her voice to an ear-splitting shriek. “You hear me, Reine City? Zat little schcoundrel veel PAY for vat she did to my floof! Your champion eez far from defeated just yet!”

“So, about that coffee date...”

Her eyes turn to him with all of the cold, icy fire raging inside. So do the ice shards hovering in mid air all around her. He takes a step back and winces. Clearly, this isn't a good time.

“You!” she yells. “Veel you not even properly respect your champion? Am I a joke to you?”

“W-what? No, never...” he stammers. But she is on him already, glaring him down.

“If I hear any word of deesrespect out of your puny snout again, I veel happily mash eet to pieces a second time! And zees time, you won't get up again, zat I promise!”

Blitz can feel his heart speed up. Part of him wants to tell his beloved she just perfectly described his favorite fantasy about her. But then again, not a good time. Best to let her blow off some steam first.

Time passes, and the minutes seem to turn into hours as their tense but silent standoff progresses, and Blitz relishes every second of it. Only eventually does Velvet turn her gaze away, as the shards of ice all drop and shatter on the floor around her. She pays them no mind, and turns to leave instead.

“I must go!” she proclaims. “Zere is much work to be done yet!”

As she turns and gallops away, Blitz wearily falls on his haunches amidst the ruins of his devastated hometown. He can only contemplate how all these strange occurrences have made this by far the best day of his life. And with a tear in his eye, he watches Velvet go and dash down the street. One day, he tells himself with certainty. One day she'll be all his. Until then, well…

He looks around himself, and the state of his surroundings catches up with him. She's right about one thing. There is much work to be done if this place should ever shine the glamorous way it did before again. Luckily, that's not for him to be done, but for his loyal servants. Where did they go anyway?

He doesn't have to look for long. A trio of sprites come rushing down the road towards him, and Blitz clearly recognizes them as his own. They even carry another steaming cup of coffee along for him, and for him only. His relief is immeasurable. That is, until he spots the writing on the cup.

“I am _not_ called Fritz!” he yells. “Take it back! I'll...I'll be in my study.”

With a sad frown, the group of sprites turns and backs away. As he leaves for home, Blitz reminds himself to smile. He will not have his perfect day ruined by a minuscule force of tiny imbeciles.


	3. November Reine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven heroes, seven stories.
> 
> A collection of short episodes surrounding each of the chosen key keepers, their adventures and mishaps. They all share a quest to rescue Fœnum from those that want to see it all in ruins. Results however, may vary.

One after another, the icy breezes shift across the northern hills. Weak as they seem, they are merely forebearers of the unrelenting storm that approaches from the tundra. Soon it will sweep in and cover these lands in a solid blanket of snow. Even now, most of the ground is covered purely in white. Whether or not winter will ever end in this unforgiving country appears to be an uncertainty at most.

Nobody told her it was going to be this bad. Or maybe she just hadn't listened. She had a bit of a knack for this kind of quiet disobedience. Now, with the oncoming storm blowing through her gray coat and tearing at her mane, tail, and fetlocks, she curses them all for not warning her about the cold weather. Most of all, she curses herself for not properly doing her research. Slip-ups like this seldom happen to her but when they do, they tent to doom her to suffer the consequences to their full extent, like it or not.

With no other option Oleander presses on forward, dragging her cloven hooves through the piling snow. The last dying flicker of sunlight disappears behind the western horizon just as she passes the lone house on the side of the road and pushes herself across the bridge and the river up to the main gate.

Reine City is to her nothing but a huge, cobblestone wall in that moment. That, and the enormous oaken door in front of the lonesome unicorn that makes her appear tinier than the smallest bug in comparison. She lifts a hoof and forcefully raps on the wooden surface, two maybe three times. When she receives no response, Oleander rises up on her hindlegs, places both her front hooves on the gate and hammers away at it. Again, no reply comes from inside.

As much as she hates to admit it, she is growing desperate. The storm starts coming on ever stronger now. And while the magical aura flowing forth from her horn still protects her from the worst of it, she can't say just how much longer it will last. Her powers are limited considerably after a long day in the cold.

Standing back, she lets her horn produce another, stronger pulse of magic which attempts to wrap itself around the gate in front of her. She begins to pull at it in a vague attempt to force it open even just by an inch. But it's no use. The door is much to old and heavy for her magic alone.

For a moment, her eyes wander to one of the saddlebags she wears strapped around her barrel. But she quickly dismissed the idea. It sounds preposterous to her even now. She relies on these people letting her into their city, after all. Forcing _him_ to reveal his presence would push them to do nothing but the exact opposite. No, summoning is out of the question. Here is a challenge she needs to face on her own.

Stepping back she raises her head and stares up this giant obstacle, trying to spot something or somebody on top. Through the hundreds of snow particles rushing past between her and them however, it is next to impossible to make out anything but the faintest outlines and shadows.

“Hello? Can anybody hear me?” she yells at the top of her lungs, tossing her head back. The words are all but lost in the wind. A scarlet flicker of magic floats out from her horn, wanders downwards and settles on her throat where it disappears. Her voice now amplified to many times its previous volume, she tries again.

“HELLOOOO? Is somebody there? Can someone hear me? HELLOOOOOO!”

The words thunder along the wall, wander across the surface of its stones or ricochet off of them. Before any trace of her voice reaches the top however, it weakens to a whisper and is blown by the wind into the distance. Oleander watches it go with a disgruntled frown.

“Nuts.”

She turns her eyes back the way she came, and notices some light in the darkness. The warm, orange glow comes from the windows of the building on the other side of the bridge. She passed by it without much consideration just a few minutes ago. Now with even the last bit of sunlight gone, she decides to examine it a bit closer. With a heavy sigh, the gray unicorn mare sets herself into motion and wanders back across the bridge.

The lone house stands two stories high, built from dark gray stone that very much matches the color of her coat. The roof seems to differ from the rest of the structure a little, but from down here she can't fully make it out. Down on the ground level however, she finds she can easily spy through the lit up windows.

Oleander feels her heart soar as she realizes what's inside. The sight of dozens of reindeer and cattlefolk gathered around tables, happily chewing away at plates of food and engrossed in possibly not so meaningful conversations make her breath a sigh of relief. Here might just be something to save her from this terrible weather!

She prances forward towards the entrance. As she puts one hoof on the door to push, her eyes fall on the sign hanging from the wall, swinging in the wind. THE REINE CITY INN – DO COME IN(N), it reads. Even as she rolls her tired eyes at the awful joke, her relief is unfaltering.

But her untroubled confidence doesn't last for long. The moment Oleander pushes open the door and slips into the grand room beyond, some two dozen pairs of eyes momentarily glance at her entrance. For most other visitors, they would have lingered on her for a mere second or two before deciding she wasn't worth their time and going back to their own business.

Then again, Oleander isn't a normal reindeer or a cow. She's visibly different from all of them. And the gazes that fall on the corrupted, young unicorn don't just go away. They continue to stare at the newcomer long after the door falls shut behind her. Every conversation around her dies down momentarily, and an oppressive silence fills the room.

“Um...hello,” she sheepishly greets the troubled crowd with a quick wave of her hoof. “Who's in...charge here, who do I talk to?”

Oleander cringes at the persisting silence. She feels her entire face heat up, and not in a good way. It all reminds her of a very similar confrontation with her own kind not too long ago. The day they first saw her like this. How she had wanted to forget all about that!

There isn't time to focus on the past now, as a middle-aged reindeer cow comes rushing around the counter to Oleander's left and towards her. Feelings of both pity and concern are reflected in her eyes, as she obviously doesn't know what to make of the newly arrived.

“Oh, dear. Oh, dear,” she greets her. “I'm terribly sorry for the ruckus, well, or lack thereof, really. But we do not see to many of your kind around here, you must understand...” Her eyes slowly examine Oleander from head to toe as she speaks. “...truth be told I don't recall ever seeing anything or, well, anyone like you before. Not to be too forward, but what are you?”

“No offense taken,” she lies. “I'm a unicorn.”

“Are you now,” the reindeer says, still eying her somewhat critically. “Well, anybody is welcome in this house, dear. We are open minded people after all, and also the law may or may not require this attitude from us. But let's quit our dillydallying on formalities. Come along.”

She turns back to the counter, and Oleander swiftly follows her. All the while, she tries her best to ignore the prying eyes resting on her from each and every corner of the room. Of all the things her kind could possibly be, why did reclusive have to be one of them, she wonders. Everywhere she goes in Fœnum that isn't home people seem to treat her like a freak.

Truth be told, they treat her like a freak back home as well. This at least has been of her own making, so she can't fully blame them. Not that it makes her feel any better.

“Now then,” the reindeer waitress continues, as they look at each other from across the wooden counter. “I do of course not know about the preferences of your kind. Still, would you like me to fetch you something? Our special for the day is a minestrone with only the most exquisite vegetables and just a trace of specially imported _Parmigiano_. As a side, we offer a mixed cucumber salad with our very own vinaigrette and a taste of our world famous chocolate pudding for desert. It is not too pricey either, only ten bits of salt a dish. For now, would you be content with a glass of ice cold milk for a start?”

“Actually, I was wondering. Do you rent out any rooms?” Oleander wonders. “I'm having a bit of a hard time getting through the gate and into the city, to be honest.”

“Ah, yes! You must be ever so weary from the storm,” the reindeer replies and scoffs. “Don't let those ruffians atop the gate discourage you, dear. Why, I'm fairly certain you'll have no problem making it through in the morning. Until then, we will happily provide you with one of our upstairs bedrooms.” She hesitates for a moment. “On the condition, naturally, that there won't be any practicing of or colluding with otherworldly powers to bring about the demise of us all, naturally.”

“Whu-what?” Oleander gasps, eyes growing wide. Had this reindeer really looked right through her just like that? “I...I would never do that. I'm as pure and innocent as the next guy, I swear!”

The waitress scrutinizes her for another moment before the welcoming smile returns to her muzzle.

“Of course you are, dear. Of course. You must forgive me, it is merely a precaution we take around these parts. And not to cause any offense, but someone with your, ahem...” She pauses for a moment, seemingly looking for the right word. “…well, _façon_ does tend to make an impression, which may imply dealing with such ungraceful matters may not be so far beyond her.”

“Oh, uh, well...”

“But don't even worry about it. Don't worry! We will have a room for you ready in a few minutes. It'll cost you twenty-five bits of salt, and you will get a complimentary glass of milk on top of it. If you wish.”

“Just the room, thanks.” Oleander pauses for a moment before she resumes. Without a decent drop to drink all day, her throat is as dry as sandpaper. “Actually, never mind that. I'll take the milk.”

As the waitress leaves to fetch her drink, Oleander reaches around for her saddlebag. The flap opens up by itself, courtesy of her magic. Twenty-five tiny salt cubes come floating out of a small separate compartment she had sewn into the side of her bag some days ago. She couldn't risk this pesky mineral ruining the equipment she was carrying, let alone her precious books.

The cubes hover past her and onto the counter. She arranges them in a neat little square ready for the waitress to collect the moment she returns. By the time her saddlebag closes itself again, Oleander isn't even looking anymore. Completing a spell this simple without visualizing the object in question is a novice-level task at best.

As the reindeer cow returns to her, a pair of small, fluffy creatures come climbing onto the counter in front of Oleander. One is carrying her glass of milk, the other one has a small key in its tiny grasp. They place both objects down in front of her, then get to collecting the salt pieces and promptly make off with them.

They briefly bump into each other. The collision causes one to drop half his load and sent a series of high-pitched, incomprehensible curses at his companion. A moment later, both the salt and the two of them leap of the far side of the counter and disappear.

“I'm sorry,” the waitress laments. “But these sprites, they can be so very...clumsy. Nonetheless, they'll have your room ready before long, like I said. Until then, be a dear and enjoy your milk without causing to much of a stir, no offense. And if there's anything you need, feel free to notify me about it.”

As she goes about her business once more, Oleander lifts the glass to her lips and takes a long, good sip. The cold liquid does a fantastic job revitalizing her dulled senses. When the empty glass lands on the counter a moment later, she can't help herself but to elicit a long, good sigh.

She takes a moment to examine the key before her. A stained brass plate is attached to it with a rusty metal ring. The number seven is boldly engraved in it. A group of seven tiny circles appear on the metal right above it, presumably as an auxiliary measure for those less literate. Oleander glosses over it and has the key float into one of her bags.

Somebody else catches her eye. A reindeer buck sitting a few feet away from her has curiously regarded her for over a minute now. When she turns to return his looks with an irritated gaze, it emboldens him to speak up. She immediately wishes she hadn't done that.

“My word of advice?” he says. “You should maybe take a step back with your magic tricks, lest you mean to disturb the poor inhabitants of Reine City. They are so delicate in their opinions on outsiders.”

“Pretty sure my appearance alone disturbs them just fine,” she replies with a grunt.

“Indeed it does,” he muses. “Forgive me, but I was under the impression that all unicorns tend to be pure white, like snow.”

“We tend to be like that,” she dodges his question. “It just so happens some of us are exceptions to the rule. As long as nobody here tries to arrest me over it or anything, I should be just fine.”

“I meant no offense, miss!” the buck exclaims, shrinking back. “Though I can't help but wonder, I mean, we haven't seen a unicorn here our entire lives. What brings you here, out of all of them?”

She regards him, trying to suppress a groan. He isn't going to let up it seems.

“There is an ancient artifact in your city's museum. An arcane stone, if you will. I mean to do some research of it to further the understanding of our, well, unicorn magic.”

“Speaking of which, is your saddlebag filled with magic or something of the like?”

“What? No! I just keep my books in there.”

“Well, isn't this interesting. I meant to see one of them sort of...stir for a bit just now. As if it was alive, really. I'm sure it shouldn't concern me, but...”

“That's right, it shouldn't.”

He silently regards her for another moment, as Oleander's eyes fly open wide with fear of being found out for the second time that night. After a tense, brief moment however, he chuckles and eases off of her.

“Well, alright then. Fair enough. I'll leave you be.”

Part of her wants to get in his face and tell him, _yeah, you better_. She feels like she has all the justification to do so. But she decides against it and stands down. When nobody else approaches her, Oleander backs away from the counter and heads for the nearby staircase.

Her room will surely be upstairs. And it should be ready by now. As she's halfway up the stairs another stir comes from her saddlebag, much like the one the reindeer buck described just now.

“He's got a sharp eye, that one,” a deep, masculine voice calls out from somewhere. “Apparently I can't even yawn or scratch myself without being spotted.”

“Which is why I keep telling you to be subtle,” Oleander hisses from between her teeth, eyes focused strictly ahead. A dim hallway opens up before her once she reaches the top.

“You just can't live with me stealing a bit of the spotlight, huh?”

“Oh, shut up. You're lucky to be here.”

The voice from her bag falls silent for now, and she quickly gets back to the matter at hand. Room number seven is the third door to her left. Oleander stifles a yawn as she turns the key and the door swings open. The prospect of some well earned rest feels like a welcome change. She'll need her full strength soon enough.


	4. Huoshan Guided Walking Tours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six heroes, six stories.
> 
> A collection of short episodes surrounding each of the chosen key keepers, their adventures and mishaps. They all share a quest to rescue Fœnum from those that want to see it all in ruins. Results however, may vary.

Come one, come all! Come and see the golden city in the clouds, the flourishing jewel of the world famous empire of Huoshan, home to the fierce and unwavering creatures known as Longma. Come down to its streets and shops, cafes and markets, shrines and palaces! See the grace and glory of a civilization in its golden age, and cower before the might of this proud and ancient race. Don't forget to send a postcard home!

See this pagoda over there? That's right, the one with the beautiful ornaments, the most gorgeous ones you'll find anywhere in the city. Isn't it grand? Observe how it basks in the rising sun's golden rays, sparkling in the center of this great and peaceful garden like a worthy home to the one that dwells inside.

See how at the light of dawn, the shutters slowly open. See how the main door swings aside to make room for the most daunting, the most dazzling, the greatest ungulate you will ever lay eyes upon! See how she now emerges, letting the sun's light embrace her emerald scales along with the blistering light stemming from the flames that make up her mane, tail, and wings.

And just who is this marvelous being, you ask? Who is she, that she graces us lowly mortals with her glorious presence? Well. Let this humble narrator introduce you. Rest assured, you will never again see anyone or anything like her.

For she is Tianhuo, leader of the imperial guard and the greatest warrior who ever lived. None shall compete with her majestic splendor, and nobody shall ever outmatch her in skill, speed or elegance. Observe her while you can, it may well be the only chance you ever get.

There is a reason why Tianhuo was chosen as Champion of the Longma. That's right. The empress named her the one who shall venture out and find the Enchanted Key that will shut the otherworldly gate, which separates us from the gruesome creatures commonly only spoken of as the Predators.

Now, now. No need to panic at the name though terrifying it may be. Rest assured, Tianhuo is the one standing between our simple souls and those hideous beasts. And with her on our side, there is not a thing in the world that we shall ever need to fear. The only thing we do need to fear, is fear itself. Like a wise man once said.

Many a day and night ago, a shocking message arrived at the court of our most beloved empress Longestma. I believe you all know of its contents. The veil between worlds wears thin, it read. The predators are returning in force. And nothing in the world will stop them. Unless that is, a worthy champion is chosen to represent Fœnum in the battle against the dark. One who will reclaim the sacred key and lock our enemies away once again.

The empress is of course a humble servant of the people. As such, she realized immediately what grave threat this menace posed to those she swore to protect. And extensive measures were taken. Every governor and general, every public official in the empire was soon alerted. The threat was real, and it was ever present for us all.

Most importantly, a champion had to be found. And to find who might be best suited to represent Huoshan in battle, a competition was called. A tournament which very recently took place on the city's central square. You may recall the great square we began our fascinating journey on this morning. The one that houses the imperial palace and a vast portrait of our great empress herself?

I will not bother you with its name. It is far too complicated for the untrained lips to pronounce. In your own tongue, it would be named _The Square Where Nothing Bad Ever Happened_. Something of the sort, anyway. Part of it is very difficult to translate.

But let us not dwell on those details. The tournament was called, and all kinds of mighty heroes and fighters from across the empire set out to come to our lovely city and prove their skills. Hundreds of them arrived here, and the gentle and graceful Tianhuo was well among them when they came.

But here our troubles began. When the empress heard Tianhuo herself was among those willing to test their strength and skill and prove their worth in defending her people, she quickly changed her mind about the tournament. After all, what good is a competition when the most glorious and able warrior of all is already well known and has herself declared ready to undertake the task in question?

If it were up to the empress, Tianhuo would have been named champion right then and there. But as she serves the will of the people, things don't always work out as easily as this. And their will was to prove themselves. Hundreds already flocked to our city, and how disgruntled would they become had Longestma just turned them away like that! No, the tournament was already called. And being the honorable ruler she is, the empress kept her word.

The day of the competition arrived shortly, and our city was bustling with activity and decorated with colorful ornaments the likes of which none had ever seen before. Ah, you would love to experience it. The fairs! The fireworks! All of Huoshan seemed to have come to our humble city and for a brief period, we truly were at the very center of the world the way we always deserved.

A large arena was constructed right outside the imperial palace. Wooden stands rose up all around, built inside a matter of days. Thousand upon thousands of our noble citizens could bear witness to the greatest spectacle of all time this way. And so they did! Even early in the morning, when the sun still glowed orange in the east and chilling winds blew through the alleyways, many a Longma took their seat already, mindful of securing themselves a suitable view of what was going to happen.

The stands filled up all around. Before you knew it, tens of thousands stood and sat around the vast arena. Watching, waiting. Your humble narrator was well among them of course, and even he could hardly believe his eyes at the sight of such grandeur.

When the last seat was finally filled, the ceremony started. Scores of dancers and musicians performed as an opening, and their display alone was much more glorious than anything most of us had ever seen. Gasps and outbursts resounded all over the stadium, as the competitors finally arrived. They arrived in groups, carrying before them crimson banners that each announced the name of their home province. So many of them had come, there was barely room for them all in the arena.

Tianhuo was the last to enter. She carried a whole banner by herself, and it bore nothing else but the name of our own city. When people heard she was going to compete, everybody else from around here quickly withdrew. The locals knew they could never best her. Unfortunately for them, the fools from the provinces did not possess this vital knowledge.

Then at noon, finally the empress herself did appear. A special balcony adorned with the imperial crest was prepared for her. You should have seen the crowd when they spotted her. Many seemed to lose their minds. Some even fainted. But they all joined in the resounding cries that roared around the stadium in that moment.

“All hail the empress!” they shouted. “Glory to Huoshan!” And what a sight it was. It still gives your humble narrator goosebumps just thinking about it. Had you been there, surely you'd react the same.

The empress basked in the glory that was rightfully hers for a moment. But humble as she is, she didn't let the cries of excitement go on for too long. She lifted a hoof when enough was said, and the crowd was silenced in an instant. Suddenly, not a single whisper was spoken. Longestma observed the obedience of her subjects with a content smile. Then she opened her revered muzzle to speak.

“Let the tournament begin!”

The stadium erupted in cheers the moment she said it. Now the battle for Huoshan's championship was truly underway. And the candidates were quick to react to their beloved empress' command. They befell each others' throats immediately, as many had already stood at the ready and prepared themselves for several minutes.

Ah, the glorious carnage! Many Longma died a noble death in the arena that day, as the valorous candidates tore into each other quite literally. For a while, it seemed no clear favorite would emerge from the field of ever piling bodies. But only to the untrained eye! Those that knew their share about doing battle were already certain who would come out victorious in the end. And Tianhuo was her name.

Being captain of the imperial guard and the sole representative from her home, Tianhuo did of course make herself a welcoming target to those around her. Right from the start, they flocked to her by the dozen. So many hundreds of brave but foolish warriors attempted to fell her that day, but they all should fail!

For Tianhuo has long since mastered the art of the fire. It is not only her weapon. It is her trusted friend and companion in battle and beyond. In a way, the fire is even an extension of her own self. There are times when it seems, Tianhuo and the fire aren't two entities at all. They appear to merge with each other into something greater, something that reaches beyond the mere battlefield.

That day, this was exactly what happened. Tianhuo called upon the fire, and the fire obeyed. And she defeated them all. Big and small, old and young alike. No warrior in the empire was able to best her, yet all of them tried. The battle would rage on for many hours. By the end of it, the sun already approached the western horizon as the day drew to a close. It was only then that the last of her enemies finally fell and yielded. Tianhuo had won.

To the cheers of a tired but electrified crowd, she, the fiercest of warriors walked to stand in front of our beloved empress and knelt before her in submission. The empress rose from her throne and came forth to greet her new champion.

“Arise, Tianhuo, captain of my guard and glorious champion of the Longma race!”

Her voice echoed around the arena. Tianhuo followed the command given to her. She pledged her life and duty to the empress and her alone. After she had finished, she turned to the crowd and swore to defend each and every last one of us to her very own death. Her success and that of the entire empire, she said, were now irrevocably intertwined. Upon her honor, she would not fail!

I cannot recall how long they applauded and cheered for her once she finished her speech. There was not a soul in the crowd who wasn't in love with Tianhuo in that moment, the same way she was in love with the empire that nourished and raised her, as much as every one of us!

As Tianhuo made ready to begin her quest, the greatest task of a generation, the city erupted in celebration. All throughout the night the feasting continued. Music and dances were performed in the streets everywhere. People came together in jubilation, even complete strangers. And great and colorful fireworks lit up the sky well into the early morning hours. None of us had ever seen anything like it.

So whoever you are, and wherever you go. When you travel back to your homes or to some other foreign shore, always remember this: Should anybody ever lay eyes upon our greatest warrior, you shall tell them, that is Tianhuo. She is champion of the Longma and their empire. None can ever compare to the likes of her.

And I also say this to yourself. For every day of your life you spend in peace and prosperity, every child you bear that may grow up into a strong and healthy adult without having to fear for their existence with every passing day, remember who it is you have to thank for your security. She is Tianhuo, and Tianhuo alone. Remember her in this wonderful moment, and make sure others will remember her, too…

On my word, I believe she spotted us! Come now, no need to linger here any longer. While your humble narrator does in no way wish to upset you, it is his solemn duty to point out that we are technically standing on private property right now. Unless any of you wish to be burned to a crisp before the day is out, I suggest we move on to the next part of our tour.

And what is that, you ask? What could possibly outdo the grace and glory of the great Tianhuo? Well, let me assure you there is little in the world that can. No living creature can, but there's more to Huoshan than just that. We are all just passing by on the face of this earth. Some things are greater. Some are even, in a sense, eternal.

I speak of course of the Great Wall north of our city that protects our empire from all dangers big and small. It has done so for centuries, and it will continue to do so. More than any living being it is a monument to the greatness of this, the most serene empire in the world!

What's that you ask? How many were enslaved and forced to work on this greatest of structures? How many of them died an untimely death due to the inhumane and cruel treatment they were exposed to?

What a question indeed! Let me answer it with yet another question: Who wants some ice cream? There is a wonderful shop not too far from here, owned by a very good acquaintance of none less than your humble narrator himself. I don't wish to spoil the fun, but I can assure you it will be well among the most delicious things you have ever tasted.

Come now, come! One day is such a short time, and there's still so much to be seen! Let us not dwell on one thing alone, where's the fun in that?


	5. Sheep's Trotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six heroes, six stories.
> 
> A collection of short episodes surrounding each of the chosen key keepers, their adventures and mishaps. They all share a quest to rescue Fœnum from those that want to see it all in ruins. Results however, may vary.

Choose life.

Choose a family. Choose to adopt three stray doggies off the street and train them until they follow you around wherever you go. Choose to be their mum. Choose being singled out by your own kind for the decisions you made, and not even in a bad way. Choose them choosing you for a quest to go and save the world. Choose complying with their wishes when all you want to do instead is to just stay home and watch Doctor Who on BBC One on a rainy Friday night. Choose life.

But why would I do a thing like that?

Lads and lassies, believe me. If I knew the answer to that question, I wouldn't be where I am right now. How I got here is quite the story, let me tell you. Only if you want to hear it of course. I don't want to impose myself on anyone.

It all started when I returned to my herd one night all broken and defeated. They sent me out on a vital quest to save our very existence, like I hinted at earlier. I was tasked with going to the shop and buy us a new glass of Marmite just before our stock ran out. If it did we'd have to eat our breakfast sandwiches without that distinctive taste of yeast and with nothing but baked beans on top like some proper savages. Only I didn't bring enough change along with me and came up 27p short of the required total.

All my begging and pleading didn't do any good. I would've just let my puppies loose on the cashier to convince him, but I had to leave them tied out on the sidewalk. There even was a printed-out sign to avoid any miscommunication, so what's one to do?

When I got back with my mates there was a bit of a commotion among the herd. It's nothing too unusual around these parts to feel a bit nervous or even scared from time to time, mostly for no reason at all. So I didn't think too much of it first. I had my own worries to tend to, anyway.

I still went to see what it was, of course. Apparently we were having a meeting to vote on some issues. Being the upstanding citizen, helpful soul and contributor to the community I am, I couldn't help but attend. Aside from all that gash however, I'm also a coward. I hate to admit it really, but I just can't seen to get any words out when speaking in front of a lot of people. It came back to haunt me that day, it did.

In the middle of it all I suddenly lost my temper. And at the worst time imaginable, too. These blokes interpreted my uncontrolled outburst as a sudden display of courage. It wasn't of course, but before I could say anything in my defense, they already swept me up and named me their champion. Which meant I had to venture out into the world and go find some artifact or something.

I didn't want to do this. I still don't want to, but now there's no going back. To some part that's because I'm afraid of them rejecting me if I just give up. But mostly it's because I'm lost and I don't remember which way I came. Just where am I right now, anyway? Good question.

I'm in some intricate cave system that's supposed to lead me to a place called the Prairie. Aside from people much different from my own kin it also holds something that's going to help me on me search. Allegedly. Nobody back home could tell me what it is.

When I ventured into these caves, I thought plenty of people there would be able to show me the way or at least help me out somehow. But there's no-one to be found. I have my doggies with me of course. But aside from our little group, the caverns are more deserted than the car park at Tesco during a Rangers game.

We marched around these caves aimlessly and with no direction for over an hour until I gave up. Arriving at the same two tunnels intersecting for the tenth time at least, I slumped down on my haunches and whimpered. My doggies were quick to flock to and nuzzle me. And that's the situation right now.

“Don't worry, loves. We'll make it out of here somehow.”

I don't even believe it myself anymore. For once in this short, young life I pushed my luck too far. There's no getting out of this, that much I can tell you. I'm just short of surrendering us all to the dust right here. That's when I see them.

Three pairs of fiery red eyes come creeping towards us from one of the tunnels. Were it not for the hole in the ceiling that lets at least some moonlight shimmer through, I would've probably never found out who those assailants are. This way however, I quickly recognize their clawed paws, sharp teeth and pointy muzzles. They're giving me some proper shivers, they are. And now they're coming straight at me!

“Welcome, young one,” one of them hisses in a foreign accent unknown to me. “We have been expecting someone like you. Do you know who we are?”

“What do you want?” I hear myself sob. It's almost like there's somebody else there with me saying that. All four doggies start to growl at the dark menace. But even they're scared out of their minds, I can tell. “I don't have anything for you. I'm just a lonely little lamb with fur as white as...”

“Yes, yes. Very white. Not like ours at all. Let us introduce ourselves.”

I'm shaking in fear, my face as pale as the moon itself and cowering in a lonesome corner, as the three of them rise on their hindlegs. Soon they tower above me reaching many times my own height. Even my pups quit their hollering and retreat to where I'm sitting. But they won't abandon me. Good doggies they are.

“We're all black,” the leader of the pack proclaims. “And so naturally we call ourselves the All Blacks. We are your worst nightmare. None other has ever eliminated other folk as much as we have.”

“Oh, please don't,” I squeak in terror. “Please, please don't. Wait...”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“When you say worst nightmare, you mean second worst, right?” I wonder. “You're spooking the living life out of me alright, but did you ever see any springboks? Those are scary. Even more than you.”

“What's that? You're lying, quit your falsehoods!”

They sink back down to all fours and stand in a circle, mumbling amongst each other. My doggies who've been growling at them not a second ago are giving me a number of questioning looks. I wish I would be able to get in the clear entirely, but at least I'm not being gobbled up for now.

These All Blacks are a menace to us all I've been told, but it's the first time I'm ever seeing them for myself. They're scary as they come, of course. I'm still shivering even with their attention turned elsewhere. But another tribe, the springboks are an exotic group of the deerfolk. They've worked long and hard, and they're much more frightening than the All Blacks right now. But oh dear, oh dear. Why did I have to tell them? Let's hope they don't find out…

“This calls for immediate action, boys! I say, let's go out there and show these springboks! They won't get away with this!”

I'm about to add something, but they all join into an ear-splitting howl that makes my blood freeze. Not a moment later they all turn their backs and storm off into one of the nearby tunnels. I'm left on my own, with nobody but my doggies there with me.

Gazing around the tunnel openings, I sigh. I almost forgot about it, but we're still as lost as lost can be. My tired self is shaking all over, and I want nothing more than to go home, really. As always, it's one of my pups pushing me on forward. He's gently tugging at me leg, urging me to get up.

“What's the point?”

He seems to smile at me, wagging his tail.

“No, you're right,” I say, getting to my feet. “I've got to make it out of here. If it's not for me, it'll be for you. Don't fret, mummy won't just abandon you like that.”

So I get up and keep going. For how long we all wander the tunnels this time I can't say. In the end, I'm certain we already spent all night down here and it must be well into the morning. I'm on the very verge of giving up again, when a red light flickers somewhere up ahead.

“See that?” I whisper to my doggies, my voice all weak by now. “That's daylight! Would you believe we finally made it!”

With new vigor I start dashing forward, and the four of them are all too happy to come along. The light becomes ever stronger the closer we get. When finally I turn a corner, it appears right in front of me. And it doesn't look like I expected at all.

There isn't a trace of daylight here. And neither can I spot an exit from these bloody tunnels anywhere around. Instead, all I see is a small, red orb hovering in mid-air several feet above my head. One of my pups starts growling at it. I want to calm it down when a deep, male voice sounds from somewhere nearby.

“Who is it? What do I call you?”

Did they find me again? Oh, please no. I just want to go home!

“I...I'm a sheep,” I stammer.

“I can see that, you idiot. What's your name, I mean?”

“Could you be quiet already?” another, more feminine voice joins in. “Still trying to concentrate over here.”

“Yes, but what about our visitor then?”

“A visitor? Who?”

“A sheep.”

“Not a lot of information.”

“That's what I said.”

I keep peeking into the darkness around me, trying to make out the source of these voices. My legs are all shivering to the point of nearly going out from under me. I want to raise my voice and ask who they are. But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out but a pathetic snivel. Of course.

Someone steps into view to my left. It's a fully grown unicorn, one of the most elegant and wise creatures known to sheepfolk or so I've been told. She examines me with stern eyes, but something's really off about her.

“You're all...dark,” I say. “Aren't you all supposed to be pure and white and all?”

She rolls her eyes. “Seriously?”

“I mean, I just...I'm probably spouting rubbish. I'm sorry.”

“Yes, I get that a lot.”

“What, the being dark or the people spouting rubbish?”

“A little of both,” she muses. “Most people won't admit to the second, but...anyway. Who are you? And how did you even get here?”

“Uh, I'm Pom,” I say, shrinking back the closer she draws. “I'm a sheep and I'm a bit...lost.”

The unicorn steps into the centre of the room, soon fully embraced by the crimson light. She never loses sight of me to my own dismay.

“Lost, are you...ooooh!” Her eyes widen. “You've got puppies with you, why didn't you say so? Aren't they an adorable bunch of good boys? Yes, they are! Yes, the...”

“Focus, Ollie,” the deep voice apathetically commands from somewhere.

“Ah, yes. Of course.” The unicorn straightens herself up, and returns to her menacing demeanor from earlier. “Very well, Pom the sheep. Me and my demon Fred here...”

“Not my name!”

“...need to learn how you got to this place and what your purpose here is. Speak! And we might just let you live.”

“I...I'd like that,” I say. “My purpose was to go looking for a key. But I'm so lost, I've given up on it anyway, really.”

“A key?” she bellows, and a threatening dark aura erupts around the unicorn. Her eyes begin to glow a dark magenta. “What key do you speak of?”

“The...the….” I stutter, and my eyes fall on my puppies, cowering in the dirt in fear. “...the key to happiness of course. But I don't need that anymore. Because the real happiness is the friends I made along the way. I see that now, yes! Eheheh...”

The unicorn seems somewhat content with the answer, and the threatening aura partially weakens and washes away. “Is that the truth?” she asks, and I nod.

“She says it's the truth.” It's that voice again! Where does it come from? “But I can see in her eyes that it isn't. She is lying to us!”

“What's that you say, Fred? What do you want me to do about her?”

“We can't turn her loose. She'll report us on the spot to some cattlefolk law enforcement, and they'll run us down like dogs...wait, did I say that out loud?”

“You need to start citing your quotes,” the unicorn, Ollie, says.

“Please, please don't kill me,” I plead. “Just show me the way out, I'll never come back to bother you again!”

Ollie regards me for a while, scrutinizing me.

“I don't know...Fred, what do you think?” 

“I believe you should start to think for yourself. _I'm_ too busy citing all my quotes to help.”

It obviously isn't the answer she was looking for. With a pout, the unicorn turns back to me and rolls her eyes yet again.

“Stand back, sheep. And try to relax. This might sting a little.”

“It...what?”

Needless to say, her words are making me everything but relaxed. And before I know it, a black aura similar to the one wrapping around her a minute ago now forms around me and my doggies. I'm struggling against it for a moment, only to discover there's really no point. It closes in around me ever tighter until it feels like I'm going to suffocate. An explosive roar sounds around me, and everything fades into oblivion.

When I open my eyes, I see the sun rising over a vast and open land of brown and green. I'm standing on top of a cliff, legs still shaking, staring down at the vast scenery. The unicorn is nowhere to be seen, it's just me and my doggies now. Down below, there's a large herd of cattle that's only waking up.

I sit down atop that cliff. Only then do I realize how very tired I am. After a quick look around, I decide to trot over to a nearby dead tree and nap for an hour or two in its shade. My pups will be there to watch over me and keep me safe. Maybe later I'll go down to these cattlefolk and ask them about what to do next. Because I have no idea.

But I'll keep going, whatever happens. If not for me, it'll be for my pups. I see that now. They wouldn't give up on me, so I won't give up on them. I'll give them the best adventure a doggy can ask for. Without putting us through too much actual peril, of course.

And in that sense, I decide to choose life. Not the one I wanted, but the one that was given to me. Maybe some day I'll even find that key, lock away the All Blacks, and return peace to the world. Or maybe someone will get there before me and finish off the task without me having to do anything.

For what it's worth if the first option means going up against that spooky unicorn again, I'd much rather prefer the second. That's the key to happiness, I believe. Avoid your responsibilities for someone else to step up to them. I'll do that. And I'll keep doing it, every second of my life. I pledge it under this blue sky, and keep course till the day I die.

Cheers.


	6. Surprise!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six heroes, six stories.
> 
> A collection of short episodes surrounding each of the chosen key keepers, their adventures and mishaps. They all share a quest to rescue Fœnum from those that want to see it reduced to ruins. Results however, may vary.

She's standing on top of the world. No, really. All the other mountaintops are either far below hers or hidden beneath the thick cloud surface. Which generally implies they don't reach as high as the peak she's standing on. That's how she remembers it, anyway. When the laws of physics don't fully apply to you, it can be hard to keep up with all of them at once.

Paprika lifts her head and smiles a beaming smile at the upcoming sun. And what a gorgeous sunrise it is! A shiny start to her whoop-dee-do-dee-est-day of the week. Whichever one that is. She doesn't usually keep track of these itsy-bitsy things called calendars. They always leave her shipwreck-masted-flabbergasted. And who needs that?

Cliffs rise up all around the chasm beneath her. They're creepy-steepy and make people weepy. As do most things in these mountains, which is something she never understood. Why be weepy unless you're sleepy? She never felt like that a day in her life.

There's an entrance to an old temple carved inside one of the cliffs. Its dark interior usually scares of each and every one traveling this way. Not Paprika of course. She ventured in there on more than one occasion, only to be faced with packs of demonic meanie-beanies with harpy-sharpies in their snappy-trappies. They seemed nice at first, but they outright rejected her cuddles when she approached. How rude of them!

Somebody recently came by to enter the temple. What a coinky-dinky-doodle-do that was! Because she didn't just seem to like the dark, she looked just as grim and sinister herself. As did the book she carried around with her. Paprika remembered the spikey-wikey creature like they met only yesterday. Which they did.

She was very spikey-wikey because of the large horn protruding from her head. She swung it around all proudly-loudly, and when she entered the dark temple, it actually became all glowy and lit up the path for her. How neat! Paprika sometimes wishes she could do something like that.

At the very least, she had tried to give the spikey-wikey stranger a good huggie-wuggie, but to no avail. Some weird force field protected the stranger and Paprika couldn't get to her, try as she might. When she disappeared into the temple with a few meanie remarks, Paprika felt sad at first. But she found somebody else to give a hug soon enough.

It was one of those blacky-smacky-grappy-flappies who were soaring all around the mountains as of late. She hugged it so tightly, it became all cracky from happiness. And when she let go and the grappy-flappy sank to the ground, he became all stilly-feathy-not-so-breathy. Again, rude.

With a hop and a trot and a giggly-goo, Paprika leaps off the mountain and begins to roll down the side of it, faster and faster until she comes to a stop on the plateau that lies beneath. Around her stand a number of weary-teary tents and the seepy-weepy alpacas that usually live in them. Sometimes they also stand around and eat the sparse grass around the village. As one does.

She bounces towards the one nearest to her, the one with the funny hat. He doesn't spot her at first, sneaky as she is. Only when she's less than a leap away does he turn his head and jerk away at her sight.

“Aargh, it's you! What is it you want? Why do you sneak up on me like this?”

She doesn't understand the trekky-tiky-toky-talk, of course. As far as Paprika's concerned, the one with the hat is as happy to see her as she is happy to see him. And she rushes forward to grasp him in a tightly embrace and celebrate the occasion.

He quickly jumps back, and out of her reach.

“Stay away from me, you...you scoundrel! I will not have you crush my bones like you do with everything else you touch! Like that poor bird you smashed to bits the other day...it doesn't even bother you, does it?”

Paprika cocks her head. He seems a little upset, on second thought.

“Since you're already here, could you at least help us pack?” he wonders. “The grass around here has worn thin, as you may or may not have noticed. We must be on the move! Else we'll all starve and it'll be a miracle if any of us survive this day.”

Something is definitely upsetting him. She wants to come forward with another hug, but the one with the hat jumps out of her reach yet again. For a moment, it appears as if he wants to say something else. But he doesn't. He closes his mouth to turn and wander off, leaving her to wonder what this was all about.

Paprika gazes around the village. All her people are deconstructing their tents and packing them on their backs. She's seen it all before of course. Before long, the entire tribe will be well on the move.

All around her are familiar faces. And they're all sad. Or so she means to interpret them. Why is it that everyone around here always acts so oggy-groggy, when there's so much fun and laughter to be had? Some days she feels like she'll just never understand them. Dashing around the village, she tries to give out as many embraces and huggies other signs of encouragement, only to be met with hesitation and annoyance. Those that don't avoid her soon find themselves out cold on the ground, gasping for air. She feels so happy for them.

Those that do manage to evade her, just as they barely squeeze by all the other hardships in life make their way down the mountain path less than an hour later. Their housings and equipment are strapped to their respective backs, and those passed out are carried along on makeshift stretchers. Nothing remains of the village that was bustling with stoicism and apathy not too long ago.

As the tribe wanders along the path, Paprika bounces along. She also bounces in front or behind, above, among or around them. It really depends on the situation and also her current mood. The remainder of her tribe is too busy seeking out leaves or stems of grass to chew on to go along with her funny-dunnies or happy-dappies.

They wander far and wide, when a chilling breeze picks up from the south and carries a bank of foggy dew over to the tribe. Before they know it, they are all trapped in the thick nisty-misty. Many can hardly see the ground in front of them. Paprika can't either, but she always sees at least one or two other alpacas at a time. As long as they're happy, so is she.

“Keep moving!” the one with the hat yells from somewhere ahead. Assuming he's still wearing his hat of course, but she doesn't see a reason why he shouldn't. “And move on up to each other. We'll make it through this...together.”

He sounds all weepy and not even sleepy. Almost like he needs a hug! Paprika gasps excitedly and starts bouncing towards the front of the line. Now might just be her chance! The others mostly ignore her as she goes by. They are more focused on the alpaca in front of them so they won't lose their orientation.

One after another, she passes them by until the one with the hat finally comes into view. And he is still wearing it! This is a whoop-dee-day indeed, she thinks. Now if only she could make him see it, too.

As her bounces grow shorter and she comes to a halt near the one with the hat, he whirls around with shock and fear on his face. They quickly turn to anger however, as he sees who it is to just sneak up on him again.

“Paprika, no!” he commands. “Stay back. This is no time for your games, our lives are at stake. For the same reason it's never time for your games, really. But especially not now! So keep to yourself! We need to make it out of this alive.”

The smile across her face widening, Paprika edges ever closer to him, while he backs away, glaring. The column of alpaca has ceased their advance for now, and several are already yelling about why it is they don't advance already. Paprika can't see any of them, but she hears them just fine.

Suddenly, she and the one with the hat both freeze in their tracks. It isn't the sound of each other or of the other alpaca that gave them pause. Something came from up ahead, and he looks like it spooked the life right out of him. Even Paprika in her joyfulness and glee can sense something is off. They both turn their heads to the fog that ever advances on them.

A darky-sparky thing comes crawling out of it. Or rather, it comes slithering out. The black creature is long and twisted, with a pointed head and fiery eyes, just like those meanies in the temple! The one with the hat is quick to back away from this horrid monster, while Paprika merely gives it a curious stare.

“Where isssssss the key?” the creature hisses. “Give usssss the key!”

“We do not have a key,” the one with the hat retorts. “We only have ourselves and our misery. If you want to join in on the latter, by all means. I won't stop you.”

“We need the key! Give it to ussssss!”

“What are you talking about? There's nothing here for you.”

The creature pauses and regards them both for a moment. A frown, a sign of discontent forms on its strange face. It seems like it isn't happy with what's being said to it. One could almost say it looks…

...sad!

Paprika beams with joy all of a sudden. Now she knows what to do. Ignoring the fearful outcry from the one with the hat, she bounces forward to greet this strange newcomer. The creature flinches away from her with another hiss, but it is too late. Paprika has already succeeded in pulling it into a tight hug.

“Sssstop it!” the monster hisses. “What issss it you're doing?”

And then it begins to gasp for air, as Paprika's grip tightens more and more. From behind her, the one with the hat is staring at them both incredulously. The monster produces one last, whiny hiss before it sputters and goes limp.

“Sssssssshiiiit….”

When Paprika loosens her hug and backs away, the large monster falls from her arms and collapses onto the floor without offering any more resistance. She takes a step back to glance at it. That was fun! In fact, her new friend seemed to have enjoyed it so much, they went right to sleep afterwards. Seeing how the day couldn't possibly get any better, anyway.

As she keeps on grinning at the realization, the one with the hat steps up to her again. He stares at the giant shadow creature in disbelief, his eyes wandering back and forth between it and Paprika.

“It is a miracle any of us survived this,” he mutters. “So they are real after all. I never thought I'd see one with my own eyes.”

Paprika is quick to interpret his awe as joy about having found a new friend. It's what she does. When she rushes in for another embrace for the one with the head, he once again flinches away from her. He really is persistent about this.

“This changes things quite a lot. All of you, come to me!”

The alpaca come rushing up to the two of them, and before long the entire tribe is gathered in a half circle around the scene, regarding it curiously. The one with the hat pounces on the ground to get their attention.

“You see this?” he asks. “This is what the council warned us about! It is real, it seems! We cannot deny this gruesome fact any longer. We have to play our part in saving and defending our world.”

“It doesn't seem so dangerous,” someone from the crowd interjects.

“Well, yes,” the one with the hat remarks and motions towards Paprika. “But mostly because she went ahead and did...her thing.”

A thoughtful murmur runs through the crowd, and Paprika relishes the spotlight she receives. For once, it seems she doesn't even need to come to them to bring them joy! They seem very much on the path of finding it themselves.

“We must find a champion!” Within a second, the one with the hat has their attention again. They all turn towards him. “It must be someone strong and courageous enough to deal with these beasts. Someone who will save us with all their might and force. Who could it be…?”

All eyes turn to Paprika. She gulps at the sight. What do they all want from her all of a sudden? They don't seem as weary and tired as usual. Even the one with the head seems to have something specific in mind now. Most days even that doesn't seem to be the case.

“Not who I would've picked, but you're right,” he says. “Paprika? I'm sorry. You're going on a bit of a trip.”

A few minutes later, she finds herself tied up and carried on one of her companion's backs like one of the tents or some piece of equipment. She's not sure what's going on, but again, as long as they're all happy so is she. And they seem happier than they've been in weeks.

On and on they wander along the mountain passages. Paprika has no idea where it is they're going, which doesn't have to mean anything bad. Wherever they're all headed, one thing she's already certain of.

It's going to be so much fun!


	7. Capricorn of Tropics

There she goes!

Four score and seven weeks ago, the HMS Baaahnty could still be seen crossing the oceans dutifully serving her royal highness, flying the elegant banner of the United Kingdom of Great Baaah and Northern Angerrealm. She was a true sight to behold, enriching the seas with her beauty and bringing peace and protection wherever she went. Her presence truly did grace a golden age of maritime exploration.

But not anymore. The noble ungulates who steered the Baaahnty across open water in those days have since been removed from its hold, (mostly) in accordance with their own consent. And now, a new banner rises on her mast. It is black and threatening, striking terror in the hearts of all who lay their eyes upon it.

Tall and mighty, a merciless buccaneer occupies the bow. She elevated herself to the rank of captain when no-one else was left nearby to stop her. Fearless and unfaltering, a child of the seven seas, menace to the wealthy, and blessing to the poor, she is of the most ruthless creatures found on Fœnum. A bashful fighter. A vigorous pursuer of adventure. A…

...goat.

The wind blows heavily from the south, right into the sails, and sends a salty gust of ocean air through her nostrils. All the while, Shanty has her eyes fixated on the far horizon. A ship she can't quite recognize out just yet has appeared in the distance. And while it's still very much out of range, it draws ever closer. 

Narrowing her eyes, Shanty brings a tainted copper spyglass up to her face. Clearly, it is a kind of merchant vessel, sporting three masts and not much in ways of cannon. Quite a number of four-legged rapscallions she can spot hurrying about on deck. Attached to the stern flies a large white flag with a scarlet, saw-toothed X embroidered on it.

Her muzzle splits into a grin. Treasure ships from Caballerica! There could not be a more suitable outcome to this day. She has quite literally hit the jackpot with this one.

She puts away her spyglass and turns, quickly hurrying to the steering wheel. As always in these waters, the Baaahnty swings heavily back and forth, shaken by the waves beneath. Shanty is largely unaffected by the ruckus. After so many years at sea, one learns to cancel out the ocean's rhythm when walking. She never so much as stumbles.

A gentle tug on the wheel adjusts the ship's course by several degrees, and the chase is underway. The Caballerican vessel keeps course for several more minutes before beginning to turn away. Only now did they spot the flag Shanty is flying, and have recognized the danger. Alas, she thinks to herself, it is already too late for them.

Shanty turns her own ship around and begins a hasty pursuit of the merchant mariners who seek their escape still. She knows they'll never reach it. There is no land around anywhere, no port to flee into. And the Baaahnty has been named the fastest ship of a generation for a reason. None can outrun her.

After only a few minutes, Shanty pulls up next to the Caballericans and dashes forward to man the cannons. They are already loaded up. Clenching a lit match between her teeth, she dashes past them, igniting their fuses one by one.

Once she passes every starboard gun, Shanty ducks behind a treasure chest standing around at the bow and covers her ears. One of them already is missing a piece, courtesy of a drunken giraffe's musket at a pub brawl on Santa Oveja some years ago. Not one of her fondest memories.

A series of muffled roars shake the ship's hull. Shanty jumps out of her hiding place and into action. Gripping a saber from a nearby rack, she kicks a loose plank with her hindlegs. It flies across the ship's railing, soon forming a simple yet intricate bridge between both vessels.

Shanty is on and across said bridge not a moment later. A number of terrified Caballerican faces regard her as she arrives. In their midst, a tall mare with a cream-colored coat stands tall, glaring her down. When Shanty jumps from her impromptu bridge and lands on all fours on the ship's deck, the mare decisively steps forward.

“I am La Mancha, master of windmills and admiral of the Royal Caballerican Navy,” she proudly proclaims. “You privateers have made a grave mistake by meddling with the sacred crown, and you shall soon face the consequences.”

Her words don't scare Shanty. They don't even make her flinch. With full force, she rams the saber into the wooden floorboards in front of her, making some of the equine sailors around her squeak and whinny in fear. Her eyes rise up to meet La Mancha's challenging looks, a toothy grin appearing on her face.

“Aye, I've seen yer consequences.” She tilts her head. “What are ye gonna do, eh? Lock me up with the cattlefolk ye keep stealing from the Prairie and use for personal entertainment? I don't think so.”

“I suggest you and your puny subordinates surrender while you have the chance,” La Mancha replies through gritted teeth. “It might just spare you a fate in the arenas.”

“Methinks that's a chance I'm willing to take, lassie,” Shanty teases. “Besides, what subordinates o' mine be that? Ye don't see any around here, do ye?”

La Mancha looks around herself, scanning the empty deck of the Baaahnty. Irritated at first, she produces a low whinnying sound that most likely should resemble a laugh.

“You are even more foolish than I imagined.” She shakes her head. “Do you really believe you can take on a treasure ship of Caballerica all by yourself? This is the end for you then, you stupid goat. We have you clearly outnumbered.”

“Yeh,” Shanty retorts, looking around, scanning the scared and shivering horses around her. “And what remarkable numbers those are.”

“This ends here.”

Stomping a hoof on the ground, La Mancha takes a decisive step forward, and Shanty knows it is on. Dropping into battle stance, she blows through her nostrils and scrapes the wooden boards with a hoof. The grin on her face never falters.

La Mancha dashes forward, rises up on her hindlegs and starts kicking aimlessly away. Rolling over to the side, Shanty evades the unexpected frontal attack, but has to leave her saber behind. While she attempts to get at her opponent from behind, La Mancha quickly bucks her hindlegs, before tearing the saber from the planks and tossing it at Shanty.

Again, the young goat ducks out of the way. The blade soars past her head, missing her bandana by a mere inch. It soars all across deck, right into a crate of fruits where it gets stuck in a particularly massive watermelon. Shanty follows its flight path for a moment, before turning back around to face the near-feral mare.

For a minute or two, they keep dancing around each other, trying to buck and kick at the other's legs or barrel. Her legs being much shorter, Shanty sees herself at a serious disadvantage with not too many ways to make up for it.

In a last ditch effort, she ducks under yet another intended blow from La Mancha's powerful forelegs, waiting until they touch the ground again. Reaching forward with a leg, Shanty attempts to pull them out from underneath her opponent.

The mare recognizes the attempt immediately and leaps sidewards to get out of harm's way. Little does she know her reaction is exactly what Shanty intended, as the slight turn leaves La Mancha's midriff dangerously exposed.

Smirking, she crouches down, readying herself for her next attack.

“Don't ye mess with the goat, young mare...”

Jumping forward, she lowers her head and aims her thick skull right at the mare's belly. The horns catch La Mancha square in the stomach, momentarily knocking all the wind out of her.

“...or ye'll get the horns!”

As to emphasize her statement further, Shanty throws her head back, putting all her energy into catapulting her opponent into the air. With a surprised gasp and a yelp, La Mancha is sent flying over the starboard edge of her own ship. She disappears from everyone's sight and a loud splash tells the rest of the story.

Shanty looks around the deck, panting heavily. The horses stare back at her, cowering in fear now more than ever. None of them seem very eager to step up to her.

“Alrighty, who o' ye buggers is in charge now?”

No-one replies. They hardly even react to her words.

“Oi, hello? I've thrown that bloody skunk overboard alright, so now I need someone else to boss around. Be it so hard to comprehend?”

They seem to warm up to her commands. A greyish, young stallion pushes himself to his wobbly legs, and cautiously comes striding over to her.

“Finally!” Shanty greets him. “Meself don't 'ave all day. What's yer name, ya darn landlubber?”

“Um...no inglés, señora,” he says. Shanty hangs her head with a groan.

“Shoulda known,” she grumbles. “Anyone here understand me at all?”

“Soy el oficial,” the stallion continues. “Por favor, no...”

“Oh, shut yer mouth! I only want ya to hand over the booty. You know that.”

“No hablo...”

“I know!” She sighs. “Just...just take all the _pesetas_ , and the _oro_ , and the...the _joyas_ and put them...” Raising a hoof she points to the deck of her own ship. “There! Over there! Can you do that?”

“Pesetas, oro, joyas,” the stallion repeats. “Bien. Por favor, un momento...”

He then turns and, voice still shaking, barks a number of commands at his colleagues in rapid succession. While Shanty makes no attempt trying to understand him, she simply steps back and enjoys the sight of dozens of terrified horses carrying one chest after another filled to the rim with doubloons and jewels over onto her ship.

Enough to make anyone retire, she thinks. When all of them are finished, she can't help but have the feeling of self-satisfaction show on her face.

“I'd say it's been an honor,” she says with a mocking bow. “But honor's never quite been this goat's field of expertise, if ye scallywags catch me meaning.”

With nothing further to add, she victoriously strolls back across the plank and onto home turf. After retracting the bridge to the Caballerican ship, she swiftly waves them goodbye with a simple, “Adios!” The stallion meekly mirrors her gesture with an uncomfortable smile.

Before long, the Caballericans hastily retreat, willing to put some distance between both ships. As they make for the horizon, it is obvious they'll go and look for help. But Shanty doesn't let herself become worried by that. She knows it's at least three days to the nearest friendly port for them. Maybe more with a not so generous breeze.

She's got all the time in the world. And all the riches in it too, or so it would seem. Beaming with satisfaction, Shanty wanders around her newly acquired assets, when suddenly…

“Howdy there. Now, don't ya lose y'all's mind or anything but...”

Heart suddenly up in her throat, Shanty whirls around, eyes wide. It doesn't take her long to recognize the young calf standing in the now open doorway to the hold.

“...shucks, ya awready did, didn't ya?”

“How...” Shanty gasps, looking for words. “Who the bloody whirlwind are ye? And how'd ye get on me ship?”

“Now, I might've been taken prisoner by these here horses,” the cow explains. “After fighting a unicorn possessed by a demon in an ancient temple, who did a plenty good number drivin' good ole me down and leavin' me ta die, which had me wanderin' all disoriented on some beach. That's where they picked me up, sayin' any cow or bull might fetch a good attraction for the circus or somethin' like that. I escaped when ya came 'long jest now. It's a bit of a long story.”

“Ye got a nerve coming to me for help, missy.” Shanty narrows her eyes. “I'm a bloodthirsty privateer, worse than anything you've ever seen in yer short and miserable life. Do ye know what me kind does with stowaways, huh? Do ye?”

The cow swallows, her eyes widening in fear.

“Uh...cook 'em up fer supper or the likes? Throw 'em overboard?”

“What? No!” Shanty shakes her head. “I was gonny say we take them back to port and tell them to get lost.”

“Oh. Uh. I can live with that.”

“Ye better. But port's still two days away, so ye best make yer sorry arse useful,” Shanty proclaims. “See all these boxes? I need them all stored away under deck, so ye best get to it.”

“Uh...yes, ma'am.”

“And not a single thing out o' place. Ye know what's gonny happen when I find there's something missing?”

The cow shrinks back. “...what?”

“I'll take ye to port and tell ye to get _extra_ lost. That'll show ye!”

Tilting her head, the cow hesitates before slowly nodding.

“Guess so.”

It's settled. While the cow begins pushing one heavy crate after another under deck, often grunting but seldom complaining, Shanty strolls over to the stirring wheel, letting the breeze blow into her face. The seven seas truly are hers to command. How that cow fits into the equation, she can't yet tell.

For now, all she wants is get back to Santa Oveja to properly rid herself of this stowaway and indulge in her new riches. This much gold can buy all the things rich people usually buy. Whatever those are. She supposes one would need to have been rich at some point in one's life in the first place to know. Maybe eventually, she'll figure it out.

A pet parrot sounds nice, for example. She's always wanted one of those.


End file.
